1. The snow. Gods, there is So. Much. Snow. And it just keeps piling up, because it’s been weeks since the temperature has risen above freezing. This has been a brutal couple of months, it’s seriously taking it out of everyone – myself very much included.
Even new-blooming Meyer lemon tree houseplants cannot keep the gloom at bay. Even cut flowers aren’t cheering us up. Pussy willows in the living room, and I’m pretty sure they’re laughing at us all. Don’t you know? Spring is NOT around the corner. Just more snow. And maybe a wight or two.
2. Still miss Mattie-cat horribly. Am considering getting another dog – a rescued cattle dog, most likely. Since a cat is out of the question, a dog who wanted to be with ‘the people’ (aka: with ME) all day long would be the next best thing. Might also get me out of the house more, since walking herding dogs isn’t really a choice, but a necessity. I miss that insane desire to be moving – it certainly kept ME moving, even when I wasn’t excited about it.
3. My son is signed up for full-day kindergarten next year. What is the world coming to, and who is this large child, and where did he put my baby?
4. Chickens think they have died and gone to a very cold hell. They may be right, and if they are, I’m right there with them. We must have been very very bad…
5. Been reading some good books lately – expect a book post around the end of the month. Watching Buffy on DVD. Trying to write, but I keep finding myself staring out sullenly at the snow. Trying to remind myself that February doesn’t last forever, and it’s not so bad, and it’ll be a distant memory come April, but really, I’m having a hard time remembering myself of any of this. Cocoa. TV. Early to bed. See you in Spring.
1. I miss my cat. So damned much.
2. Speaking of so much, the snow outside is way too damned much. 69 inches in the last 2 weeks. Plus it’s really freaking cold. I really need a break.
3. Ramen continues to be the best thing I’ve ever eaten for lunch. It’s all I ever want anymore, forever and ever.
4. We’re all getting a little stir crazy. The Boy is a hero for taking the little one out to ‘shovel’ a lot. Flinging snow wildly and ineffectively uses up a lot of little boy energy that would otherwise be spent in sulking aggressively, or seeing how loud he can shout. He’s normally a charmer, but the long cold indoor days are wearing on all of us. Plus, I suspect I’m not as much fun to be around as usual.
5. Drinking whiskey. Enjoying the woodstove that The Boy has considerately been stoking all day so it will be tolerably warm in the barn tonight. Listening–on the monitor– to him singing the wee one to sleep. Hoping for a few hours to try to write, to get my internal life in order, even though my external life feels very off-balance right now. Hard to believe it’s been a week without Mattie. I keep thinking I’m seeing her out of the corner of my eye: a saunter of black. A pounce of darkness.
More whiskey. More cleaning – my, is my house ever clean! More cooking, more baking. More forts for the kiddo to play in. More stories read. More puzzles puzzled over. More board games played for the umpteenth time. More stories written. More wine. More kisses from The Boy and the wee one. More biscuits passed stealthily to the dog to apologize to her Whippetness for this miserable damned cold. More Facebook. More book recommendations. More cross-stitch — I’ve been stitching like mad lately, despite needing to get ON with a couple of baby blankets that are coming up due in May. More going to bed early. More napping in the middle of the day. I’ve always hated February. More daydreaming with a seed catalog in my hand. More feeding the hens compost and mealworms and suet cakes, because I feel so guilty making them live outside in a coop, and yet they keep laying eggs for me. They believe spring is coming soon.
It may not be spring, but March really is coming soon. Bringing a visit with my folks. Bringing snowmelt. Bringing mud season.
March is just around the corner.
March is also a very long time away.
My Mattie Catty is gone. For such a small cat, she’s left a giant-sized hole in my life.
No more cats. Not here, at least, and I have no intention of ever leaving this house. Her too-short life convinced me that I cannot keep a cat safely indoors, and the outdoors near this road is no place for a cat.
I got most of my weeping done in the days leading up to her death, when we knew it was coming. She had a snow day reprieve because it was too stormy to get to the vet’s for her appointment. So we spent that day cuddling, feeding her anything and everything we thought might taste good to her strangely warped taste-buds, and playing mouse-on-a-string as much as she wanted. I made sure the back patio was shoveled & let her out to explore life from the bottom inch of 4′ of snow as much as she wanted (which wasn’t very much, but I am glad she got to go outside one last time, since it was what she loved best of all). In all honesty, I almost regret not going to the reptile story & buying her a feeder mouse to torment in the dining room for old times’ sake.
Everything is washed. The floors are clean for the first time in a month. The bloodspots cleaned off the dining room rug. The cat box is collecting dust in the basement. All her empty treat boxes are waiting to be recycled – she ate every last treat on Monday, I fed her one after another until they were gone. Her toys are all shut away in a cupboard until I can look at them again. Her carrier has been donated to the vet who’s been so kind through all this, so good to Mattie Catty.
And the house is very, very empty.
Killer of Voles. Warmer of Laps. Devourer of Yogurt and Popcorn.
Miss you, sweet girl. Miss you forever.